Secrets and Guilt
by Chereche
Summary: Sequel to "Settling In" and "My Jealous Dork". Just when Kurt settles in to his relationship with Blaine, he finds himself tangled in a lie. Can he get himself out of this without earning Blaine's displeasure. D/s undertones
1. Chapter 1

I was in trouble, so much trouble, and not simply with my World History teacher.

I know, you're confused. I don't mean bad trouble, like when, you know, Karofsky was trying his best to suffocate me to death. Thankfully, I've got less important things to deem as being trouble now, and well, this is one of those things. Now, I know that technically there's no trouble I should really be in. Dalton's a great, safe, wonderful school, and now I've got a two week relationship with Blaine in the bag to add to that. And, well, with nearly two and a half months gone since I've last been bullied, my skin is completely free and my nerves are all but settled. I don't flinch whenever someone bigger and burlier than me makes an unexpected move in my vicinity. Life's good, really good, so much so that I've relaxed enough to start taking risks. And that's what exactly has gotten me into my current predicament. I'm pretty certain that my doting, caring, mentoring, but at times strict boyfriend is not going to be pleased at all with the situation I got myself into today.

We have a bit of a routine now. It's Wednesday, so Blaine's going to spend part of his evening with me in my dormitory. It's usually my favourite time of the day as I get to spend some personal time with him. The activities often differ. There's homework and studying to do of course, but sometimes there's also Youtube surfing, movie watching, talking, and more recently, cuddling. Cuddling is the best part, and he also ensures that we snuggle together for a bit before he finally sees me off to bed. That's our Wednesday routine...well, Monday and Wednesday routine. On Tuesday and Thursdays I go to his dorm where I hang out with him, Wes and whoever else drops in. More and more I realise just how popular and friendly my boyfriend is, and that students from all years tend to come to him. It's an interesting time and I don't mind the loss of personal time with him. I learn so much about my boyfriend by just sitting and watching him speak and interact with others.

Besides, some of the people who come actually do so to see me now. Yes, that's right. Listen up world, Kurt E. Hummel has actual friends in Dalton. Sometimes we divide ourselves into our respective groups in the dormitory in a communally enjoyable environment. It's a different level of intimacy that I'm slowly growing to love. It's a male dynamic that until now I've never been exposed to, and I appreciate the fact that Dalton offers me an opportunity to experience it.

None of that is one the cards for tonight though, especially when Blaine finds out what happened this morning. The only side of him I'm going to see then will be that tougher side of him that inevitably leaves me feeling all of two inches tall. Not that it wouldn't be well deserved, I acknowledge, with a bit of a sigh, even as I scribble down another point I can use on my notes page. I know any scolding or such Blaine does would be fully justified, but, who really likes being censured? Definitely not me. I take a bit of a break from my reading to think about what I can do to fix the situation. Do I make an excuse? If Blaine stays his usual amount of time with me, he's bound to notice that something is up. I'm never good at keeping secrets, especially terrible ones and so I can already see myself getting curious looks from him. And, it'd just go downhill from there. A curious Blaine is a probing Blaine. And a probing Blaine eventually uncovers the truth revealing that stern Blaine I really don't want to see. Of course, I can just be brave and admit it to him from the start; his reaction would probably be a lot milder. It wouldn't matter though. No matter how I end up telling him, he'll end up disappointed with me, and that's something I don't want him to be.

I groan and run my hands through my hair, not for the first time. What should I do? Five minutes later I decide that all of this is Blaine's fault. It's a bit of a petulant thought, but I roll with it. If Blaine hadn't insisted upon helping me make friends then I wouldn't have gotten in trouble with one. Therefore, he instigated the action and should take his part of the blame in it. It's a ridiculous excuse I know, but I go with it, because it gives me a bit of righteous indignation that powers me through the rest of my research and into actually writing my apology essay. And yes, I do mean write as in a _hand-written_ submission. Mrs. Sampson can be vindictive when required. I mean, who else would turn a simple apology into a research paper? Saying why I'm wrong isn't good enough. I have to find at least three examples of major diplomatic crises that led to horrendous situations and incorporate that into my four page submission. It's embarrassing, _very_ embarrassing and it continuously brings to mind exactly why I'm doing this activity.

Nevertheless, I force myself to focus solely on the task at hand, and my reality slowly boils down to the sound of my pen scratching along my page. It's surprising, but I don't even register the small creak my door always makes when it opens; nor do I really hear Blaine's soft call of my name. I actually jump in surprise when his slightly roughened hands drop down onto my shoulders and squeeze, but I relax immediately because the smell of his cologne wafts around me, a scent I associate with him. It comforts me, and I tilt my head up to offer him a small smile, humming in delight when he bends to kiss my forehead tenderly. My eyes close briefly as I savour the affection. I'd have never thought before him that such a simple gesture could make me feel so well-cared for.

"You're working very hard," he notes softly, as his hands knead at my shoulders. "What subject?"

Well, there goes my relaxation. I barely prevent myself from stiffening, something he's definitely bound to notice. I resist the urge to panic, and instead twist in my seat, dislodging his hands, so I can stand and sort of tackle-hug him in a way that drops him back onto my dorm's spare bed. I grin down at him (because despite the underhandedness of this move, I still love feeling him) before burrowing my face into his neck after mumbling, "Just a history essay". He chuckles, and I can feel his chest vibrate with the sound as his hands come up to settle on my back, and he starts a gentle motion. I wiggle into a bit more of a comfortable position and sigh, absorbing the affection. This is one of the reasons I love cuddling, even if our legs are both still mostly off the bed. I get to feel Blaine pressed up against me like this, and my world basically narrows down to just being him.

"How was your day?" I ask, moving so my cheek is now pillowed against his chest.

"Pretty uneventful," he answers. "Had a surprise test from Mr. Nicholas, but it wasn't anything I couldn't manage."

"So you'll get an A on it instead of an A+?" I say, mostly teasing. Blaine's smart, _really_ smart, but he's humble about it so I'm not at all intimidated by it. It's not like I'm lacking in the academic department myself, but, I had had greater things to focus on the first semester of my sophomore year than my school work. It's something I'm still struggling to rectify now, but overall, I'm not in too terrible a situation.

He digs his fingers into my side in rebuttal, and I squirm against him even as chortle pass my lips. "I'll behave!" I manage after a few seconds, and it's then that his fingers cease their assault on me.

"Good boy," he says, mostly as a quip, but it sends a pang through me. He's not going to think I'm that much of a good boy if he finds out what I'm hiding.

My good humour effectively dies at that thought, and suddenly, I'm not comforted being in his arms. It just adds to that node of guilt that's within me and, after pressing what I hope he doesn't realise is an apologetic kiss to his neck, I sit up.

"I should finish my essay," I say, stroking his cheek and feeling the hint of stubble there. "My boyfriend is kind of demanding and insists that I get to bed no later than half nine."

Blaine smiles, and amusement laces his tone as he says, "Sounds like your boyfriend has a level head on his shoulders. I think I'd like to meet him."

"Silly," I say, thumping my hand against his chest before I return to my former seat. "Do you have anything to do?"

"I've got my kindle," he answers, reaching over to grab it, "don't worry about me getting bored."

"I won't," I agree, and settle back to the task at hand.

It's a lot more difficult now that he's there. I have to worry about him. Sometimes he offers to check over my work for me, and while it's saved me some embarrassment in class, that really isn't something I can let happen today. Other times he just comes to read over my shoulder without comment, curious probably because there are a few classes I take that he's never selected. If he sees what I'm doing...it spurs me into faster writing to just get it over with, but, at the same time, I have Jeff's warning in the back of my mind that if the essay isn't neat, she won't accept it. And, this is something I really don't want to have to re-do again.

He doesn't though. The most he does at one point when I take a bit of a break to stretch is to ask when it's due. I worry if he'd be upset when I say it's for the next day, but all he does is roll his eyes in what I know is a fondly exasperated way before saying "Turning delinquent, are we?" before going back to his reading. It hits a bit too close to home for me to do anything besides nervously laugh. Finally though, I finish, and I cap my pen with relish. There, now all I have to do is submit this dumb thing in the morning, and, I'll be nearly through with all of this. I still have one more afternoon detention session to get through, but I can manage that easily. I still don't know though, if, when and how I'm going to tell Blaine about this.

I look toward him, but he's too caught up in whatever he's reading to notice, and, discreetly, I set the essay aside and work on the last few problems I have to for my Algebra class. I'm just about done with that when my door opens with a bit of a bang, and Jeff barrels in, startling us both.

"Partner in crime!" Jeff chirrups, "Are you done yet?"

My eyes widen, not because of his sudden entrance, but due to his words. Jeff could very well end up telling Blaine for me if I'm not careful and that is something I definitely, absolutely, positively do not want to happen.

"I'm am," I say quickly, and shoot a pointed look to where Blaine is now looking at Jeff. I hope my friend can gather what I'm trying to subtly tell him.

He follows my gaze and I see the way his eyebrows shoot up as he glances back at me. I nod slightly, a gesture he returns, and I know that he's going to play along. "Sup Blainers?" he says, dropping down on the bed beside him. "Am I interrupting Klaine time?"

"Klaine?" Blaine repeats slowly, and it only then occurs to me that he isn't aware of the portmanteau that the blonde has assigned to us ever since I confirmed that we had gotten together.

"Kurt and Blaine smashed together. Duh," he states, giving Blaine a look that suggests that he thinks he's the mayor of a town named Stupid right about now.

"Okay..." Blaine says, shaking his head slightly, before dismissing that conversation thread. "Why weren't you at Warbler practice today?"

Oh yeah, it's Wednesday. I didn't even realise that our detention would have prevented Jeff from attending. And that, I know, even though I'm not even a member of the team, is a definite no-no.

Jeff shrugs in a sort of nonchalant way as he responds. "I started the day with a migraine and it kept building. I ended up heading to the nurse's office after class and slept for a while."

I glance at Blaine and am surprised to see a bit of sympathy colouring his face. Is migraines an actual thing for Jeff? "You're feeling better now?"

"It's still there," he answers, "but it doesn't bother me as much now."

"It can't be if you're running around crazy."

"Yeah well we all know I have two speeds, fast and faster. I'm going to bed early tonight though, see if I can just sleep this off."

"That'll be for the best," he agreed. "You wanted something from Kurt?"

Under any other circumstances I would chuckle. Sleep really does seem to be Blaine's solution to problems, and now that he's agreed that Jeff probably needed to up his rest, he was determined to see that that happened as soon as possible.

"Oh yeah," he says and I can tell that he had genuinely forgotten how this entire conversation had started. "I wanted to see if Kurt was done with our...homework."

"I am," I state, and pick it up, offering it to him.

"Me too. I wanted to see if you're up for comparing. I can't really focus on reading in depth and I want to make sure that I haven't missed anything."

He sure knew how to carry a lie, I think, with a hint of admiration. "Why don't you take it with you?" I offer. "You can just give it back to me in the morning, and this way you can take your time with it."

"That's great actually. Well...I think I'll leave you two to your Klaine fest okay?" he responds, standing.

"Try to sleep soon," Blaine warns him, and Jeff nods.

"Later guys," he calls out as he leaves, his pace a bit more sedate.

"I'm done with everything pressing," I tell him once the door closes.

Blaine takes a few seconds to reply, he's looking after Jeff with a mildly contemplative expression that I don't really appreciate. Does he suspect, I wonder. His expression is normal when he turns to me though, and I smile despite my residual guilt as he sets aside his reading device and holds out his hand invitingly. I don't need a second invitation and soon I am cuddled back into his embrace. I know I should tell him, I really do, but right now, safely secure like this, I just don't want to rock the boat.

Besides, as I try to reassure myself, as long as the lesson is learnt, he doesn't really need to know, and I truly have no intentions of getting into any more trouble. I really don't need to tell Blaine about this, do I?

I reassure myself that the answer to that question is, indeed, no.


	2. Chapter 2

I barely resist the urge to weep as I open my eyes. I am so tired. Guilt has never been an emotion that sits well with me, and, despite the fact that Blaine had tucked me in for the night with all the usual displays of affection, I barely slept for an hour before I awakened. I spent a good portion of my night either tossing back and forth as my mind plagued me or else, grumpily seated at my desk, working on assignments not due for a few more days. The latter task succeeded, and I successfully rid my mind of all thoughts of deception and the fact that it's just another form of lying until, nearing three in the morning, I was stunned to realise that there was no work left for me to do. Well, that certainly was a new state for me to be in, and the absence of mandated assignments caused all of my thoughts to return in a flurry. It's not until almost five in the morning when pure exhaustion pushes me into a fitful sleep, one that Blaine rouses me from nearly an hour later, much to my despair. I see the look of panic on his face as my gritty eyes fill with tears, and immediately he sits beside me and hugs me close, offering comfort I'm not sure I deserve.

"What's wrong Kurt?" he asks, concern in his tone, "are you ill?"

"You'll hate me," I say, muffled against his chest. Maybe if I wasn't so goddamn tired I would have found a more subtle way to say it. But as is, all I want to do is get the truth of what has plagued my night off my chest so that I can just move on - hopefully back to sleep.

Blaine sighs above me, and he pushes me back carefully, freeing a hand to tip my head up. I blearily meet his searching gaze, and after a moment, he shakes his head and tuts. "You snuck out of bed again, didn't you?" he correctly guesses. "I'm far from pleased," he admits, "but I'll not hate you over losing sleep."

If only it was that simple I think morosely, as I shake my head.

"That isn't it?" Blaine asks, with confusion.

"I lied to you, yesterday," I say, my voice a bit gritty. My eyes, burning, drift close and I lean forward so I can pillow my head against his shoulder. It is absolutely his fault that I feel so horrid now, I think. I used to be the master of late night studying and pulling all-nighters. I used to laugh in the face of those plebeian students who walked around like zombies, sipping on coffee or yawning wildly. Blaine's sleep regime has softened me, and I've never been more annoyed by that fact as I am now.

"What did you lie to me about?" he questions, and even amidst my straying thoughts, I can hear the edge of coolness creeping into his tone. I'm pretty certain that if I found the strength to look up, I would find the beginning of Blaine's sterner demeanour emerging. Silently I swear. It's probably going to be worse now that I've hidden it from him all of last night. Why hadn't I just told him then, I despair. Before he can do it for me, I straighten myself. I can't quite meet his gaze, but my voice is loud enough as I admit my fault. "I got detention with Jeff yesterday. That's why he missed Warbler practice and that was what I was working on when you came in last night. A punishment essay"

Silence. My words are met by silence, and, discomforted, I peer upwards. Yup, there it is, Blaine's stony countenance. If I could I would kick my own butt for putting that expression onto his face, but honestly, I'm so tired I can't even begin to process the intricate movements probably necessary to achieve such a feat.

"Why didn't you tell me last night?" he asks, and I suppose it's not too unreasonable a question.

"I was afraid," I say, with perhaps a tad bit too much honesty.

Something shifts in his expression, an emotion I can't quite place. He moves away from me and stands. My heart sinks and I think he's going to the door, but instead he just goes to my desk and consults my timetable. "It's a light day for you," he says in a musing tone. "You have a double free period followed by gym. Do you need the bathroom?"

The changed topic startles me but, after a moment's contemplation I shake my head. He nods, as if coming to a decision, before coming back to where I am. I had not quite gotten out of the covers after all this time, and so it's a simple matter for him to literally push me back against my pillows before sitting beside me. "How much sleep do you think you managed?"

"Two, three hours?" I offer tiredly, my body already relaxing against the pillows and sheets. "My mind wouldn't shut up."

"A guilty conscious would do that," he acknowledges softly. "I'll tell Mr. Dawson that you're not feeling too well and to let you sleep for a bit. He'll wake you up so that you can make it to gym if you really want to go, but if you don't look too good he'll probably just get the nurse to look you over and issue you a pass."

"For missing sleep?" I say, with some disbelief.

"You look like death warmed over, sweetheart," he says bluntly, "something that could have been avoided easily on your part, but, we'll deal with that later, okay? For now I just want you to relax and sleep."

My eyes drift close of their own accord, and I find myself quickly spiralling downwards into oblivion. The guilt I had been harbouring is gone, and while I know it's not the end of the matter, at least it's on its way to being resolved, which says something right?

"Are you very disappointed with me?" I can't help but sleepily ask, even as I shift to my side.

Blaine doesn't answer me, but I'm far too under to really notice that fact. I feel his lips brush my temple and then, thankfully, I drift into much needed sleep.

All in all, I have a pretty tiring day. Mr. Dawson lets me sleep until noon. I panic a bit, but he shrugs and hands me a nurse's slip to lodge in the administration office to excuse my absence. He's good-natured about the entire thing, and actually laughs when I ask if it's okay for a student to be excused from classes because of a lack of sleep. He tells me that since it's my first time nothing more will come of it, but if it happens again I'll have to see a counsellor about my study habits. It seems as if Dalton boys occasionally develop overachieving tendencies and throw themselves into their studies to the extent that their health falters. I guess it's why Blaine knew that he could safely leave me sleeping. My books from the previous night are still scattered about my table, but I can tell that someone's gone through them - probably Blaine or Mr. Dawson and saw just much work I managed to get down due to my guilty conscious. I wisely play along and accept his advice to not work so hard and to go to bed earlier tonight and head off to meet Jeff for lunch.

I rarely see Blaine during the school time on Thursdays since all of my classes are in the Arts building. I can't lie to Jeff about my whereabouts and he responds, not with sympathy, but with snickers and jabs at me. Apparently he's most offended by the fact that I have a conscious. When I mention him lying to Blaine on my behalf, he just shrugs it off and steals a piece of broccoli off my plate. I roll my eyes playfully, but then change the topic, continuing along on with my day.

I don't encounter Blaine until dinner time. He spots me immediately as I walk in with Jeff; he's seated with Nick, David and Wes and gestures to me. I nod, and after Jeff and I choose our preferred dinner we join them. I'm a bit nervous now as I claim the seat beside him, and tentatively look at him. He meets my gaze levelly and I'm relieved to see that while his eyes are still a bit hard, there's no real anger there. Indeed, he briefly strokes my cheek before returning to a conversation with Wes, leaving me to answer a question from David. It's almost a normal dinner time for us, if not for the fact that I'm pretty certain that my evening is not going to be anywhere near as pleasant as this. I relish this time, and even laugh at Jeff and Nick's antics. When Blaine eventually wraps his arm around me and pulls me close my heart twinges at the lazy easiness of the gesture and I can't help but scoot closer to him, future conversation be damned.

After dinner, Blaine begs off on a movie in the common room, rightly pointing out that I need more sleep. I can tell that Wes and David know that something is off; David gives me a sort of searching look, while Wes seems a bit sympathetic as he wishes me a pleasant evening. I'm a bit reluctant as I follow them, but also a lot relieved; finally this can just be over.

Blaine disappears to his room for a bit while I shower and get ready for the night. It's pretty early, even by his standards, but my eyes are already feeling gritty and I know that a good night's sleep is what I need to fully return myself to form. He's back by the time I've showered, blazer, tie and shoes discarded. He's rolling up his sleeves as I walk back into my bedroom, hands gently patting my now too long hair dry. My mind randomly goes to a Buzzfeed video I'd seen recently about things men do that are unconsciously sexy. I didn't really understand it in the context of the video, but somehow, watching Blaine perform such an ordinary act really does set my heart a flutter. I make a brief note to find a way to get him to adjust his watch when I'm around, you know, for research purposes.

He looks up at me and offers me a small smile. My brush is beside him on the bed, a signal I know well. Draping the towel over the back of my chair, I sit on the bed in front of him. Soon enough, I am humming as I feel the gentle movement of the brush over my hair.

"How was your day?" I ask softly, my eyes drifting close.

"Pretty normal," he responds, "although Nick misread the instructions and started a fire in the lab."

"What?" I say with a gasp, eyes opening, "no one was hurt, right?"

"Everyone was fine," he reassures, "it was actually a bit funny, and Mrs. Matthews has no idea how he got that flame to turn green given the compounds we were dealing with."

"The most interesting thing that happened so far in class is beakers melting."

"Jeff's doing?"

"How'd you guess?" I ask and Blaine laughs softly.

"You've only started to see what Jeff's capable of," he tells me, "but you'll learn with time."

"I'm starting to," I admit softly, my mind drifting back to my last History class. If I'm perfectly honest, Jeff was mostly the reason I'd gotten into trouble in the first place, not that I can ever hold it against him. My mind drifts with the thought. "Blaine, I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you yesterday."

"You apologised for that this morning," he answers, "or were you that tired that you forgot?"

"I remember," I tell him, "are you angry with me?"

"You also asked that as well," he points out.

"I don't remember you answering."

"I didn't," he allows, and the brushing of my hair stops. I twist around so I can look at him, although it is with some nervousness.

"Blaine?"

"You said you were afraid of me," Blaine says softly, looking at me with sorrow in his eyes. "Kurt, you didn't lie to me, and it worries me that you were afraid because of something I have done."

"I-I don't understand," I admit, worried about his tone.

He reaches out and touches my cheek gently. "Kurt, I have…issues with honesty, and that's not something to discuss now, but you not telling me something doesn't equate to lying."

"Lying by omission," I murmur and he chuckles, although there is no trace of humour in it.

"Have I made you overly cautious of me sweetheart?" he asks, and his thumb now rubs along my skin. "I never meant to scare you into thinking that you can't have secrets of your own."

My eyes widen at his words. I realise now that perhaps Blaine had misinterpreted what I had said in my sleepy state. "No," I say quickly, "I am not afraid of you Blaine. I just didn't want you to be disappointed."

"You said it though," he repeats, "you were nearly asleep, but you said it. And you're most honest in your vulnerable moments."

His tone is heart breaking, and I shake my head back and forth roughly. "I am not afraid of you," I tell him firmly. "Blaine, I know fear. Until I came here I've felt a lot of it, too much of it. I am _not_ afraid of you."

"But you-"

"Forget what I said. I do not fear you Blaine. _Never_ you."

He looks deeply into my eyes, as if searching for the depth of my sincerity. I think he found it, because his eyes lose a considerable amount of his sorrow. I feel bad that he's had to deal with that thought for the entire day, and I lean forward enough that I can kiss his cheek reassuringly. He smiles at the gesture, and then laces his fingers with mine in the space between us.

"How would you have reacted if I'd told you last night?" I can't help but ask.

Blaine shrugs. "Probably have given you a scold," he says honestly. "You've made Jeff a friend sweetheart," he adds, "I have no doubt he'll start dragging you into his shenanigans. I just don't want you to overdo it."

"Oh."

"I want the best for you Kurt," he tells me, flexing his fingers in my grip, "and I suppose that can make me seem a bit tough on you at times. But please don't ever think that you need to hide something from me, okay?"

Tough was a quaint way of putting it, I think, my lips quirking slightly.

"I don't mind it," I admit.

"Oh?" he says, eyeing me curiously and causing me to blush and look away.

"Your toughness keeps me in check. I may complain and grumble but, save last night, I've never been more rested. I don't even have dark circles anymore. And I've never studied so much before either, or worked so hard overall. And that's all because of you. You helped give me stability and I like that, being held accountable to someone? I like it. I like you guiding me, and I like seeing you smile when I do something good, or hearing you...praise me. I feel good inside. It's why I didn't want to tell you about getting detention, because you'd be disappointed in me, and that's not at all what I ever want from you."

Blaine was silent for a long moment before he freed a hand to cup and rub against Kurt's cheek. "I like it as well," he admitted, "protecting you and guiding you. It makes me happy to know that I'm strong enough for you to rely upon. I want that to continue, but I don't want you to ever feel like you can't tell me something, even if you think I won't like it."

I feel as if there is something deeper that we're speaking about, that Blaine is asking whether or not I'll agree to. I don't understand all the details, nor do I think that Blaine's fully aware himself. But if it came down to whether or not I trusted Blaine, then the answer was yes, unreservedly _yes_.

"I want it to continue," I tell him softly, and the smile that takes over his face causes my heart to flutter.

"Awesome," he says softly, and pulls me forward into a deep kiss that leaves me both breathless and mewling slightly when finally he pulls back.

"Do you have anything left to do for tonight?" he asks, and it's only then that I acknowledge the tiredness I had forcibly put out of my mind for the duration of our conversation.

"No, I'm good."

"Then how about I get you a glass of hot chocolate while you pack your things?"

"The sun's still setting Blaine," I point out, though there's not an ounce of genuine complaint in my voice. My only concern is whether or not I can sleep straight through the night till morning. I'm tired now but I hope I'm not going to wake up at four in the morning or something equally ridiculous.

"You have sleep to make up for," he says simply. He pecks my lips once before pushing me gently so he can bypass me and stand.

I mimic him. He grasps onto my upper arms gently, rubbing up and down them soothingly. "Pack your things okay?" he says softly, "I want you well rested for tomorrow."

"Okay," I agreed, warmed by his concern.

He squeezes my arms once, reassuringly, before releasing me. I turn away to head for my desk, only to yelp when I feel something sting against my butt through my pants. I turn, pout firmly in place to see that Blaine's snapped the end of my damp towel against my behind. His expression is mostly humorous, although I see a hint of sternness in his gaze.

"No more behaviour that gets you in trouble," he says firmly.

The 'or else' doesn't need stating, and while my cheeks flame at the reprimand, I can't help but feel cared for and protected in that very way I told him I so loved. I nod. "I won't," I promise.

"Good boy," he replies throwing the towel in the general direction of my hamper.

I watch him leave before I start gathering my stuff. Our conversation and its subtleties are something I'm going to spend time dwelling upon in the future, but for now, all I want is that drink Blaine's promised me, and after that, my bed.


End file.
